


In Its Absence

by Miri1984



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Star Wars Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-08 02:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5480609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/pseuds/Miri1984
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble fics that are basically me dealing with my post Awakens feels. Spoilers for TFA, obviously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In its Absence

The island was cold and the air was fresh and clean, the scent of the sea ever present in his nostrils, the wind biting and invigorating. Yet he dreamt of dust and sand and metal. Of hunger, and waiting.

Those dreams were better than the others.

The force flowed through him, and surrounded him, and reminded him of how he had failed. What had once brought solace and certainty now brought only pain. He attempted to meditate, to see what would come, but his visions of the future were dark and impossible to interpret. He blamed his own clouded mind. Whenever he closed his eyes he saw the face of his nephew, the face of his sister, of his friend, the people he had failed. Nothing was certain, and he could not find the light.

He began to long for the dreams, of sand, and dust, and light, because at least, in those dreams, there was still hope.


	2. Broken

The destruction was minor, this time. Only one set of shelves had been upturned and the carpets and light fittings were, blessedly, untouched. Leia sighed, running her eyes over the mess on the floor, thanking the force that at least he hadn’t hurt himself this time. The last time Ben had lost control he’d broken a bone in his foot. His frustration with his training had been nothing to his desperate desire to get back to it, even with his foot in a bacta cast he had pestered her to continue. Only Han showing him a badly healed bone in his arm on the monitor had calmed him.

“If you don’t rest it, kid, you’re not going to be able to walk right again,” he’d said, ruffling Ben’s hair. “This aches like nothing in cold weather, could hardly shoot straight on Hoth because of it.” Ben had looked up at Han with wide, adoring eyes and nodded, and Leia had breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “You don’t want to be foolish like your dad. Training can wait while you get healthy.”

He was better at this than she was. Always had been.

A gentle nudge from the force and she had the shelves righted and she turned to the mess on the floor. A glint of gold caught her eye and she frowned, kneeling suddenly to pick up the holo frame, shattered on both sides to the point where the picture that had been displayed within could no longer be seen.

It had been a picture of Bail and Breha. Her parents. The only parents she’d ever known, dead so many years ago now, with Alderaan.

The picture could be recovered. It was in the house database. There were far more valuable things in this home they’d made for themselves -- far too many valuable things, she’d often thought. She’d been happier on Yavin 4 and Hoth, with nothing but makeshift bunks and field rations, than she’d ever been in the court of Alderaan.

“Leia?” Han’s voice sounded tremulous and she looked up, wondering why he was so blurred in her vision. “Leia what is it?”

A tear dropped down onto the hand that held the frame. She hadn’t even known she was crying. She swallowed, trying to push down the feelings that were surging through her. Reached for the force, for the calm that Luke seemed to find easily whenever he looked for it.

“Is he all right?” she asked. Her voice shook. She swore inwardly.

“Sleeping,” Han said. “This one took a lot out of him.” Her husband came to her side, one hand on her elbow, helping her to her feet. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I…” the tears wouldn’t stop. “I can’t. I can’t do this Han. I’m no teacher, I never was, how can I help him control it when I can’t even…”

“Hey,” he pulled her close up to his chest, stroking her hair. “Hey, you’re a fantastic teacher, you’re fantastic at everything we’ll get there he just needs…”

She shook her head, shutting her eyes against the inevitable, trying to close her heart off to the loss. “We need to send him to Luke,” she said.

Han’s fingers, still twined in her hair, stopped. He tipped her face up to his, frowning. “You want to send him away?”

“No!” she shook her head. “No I don’t, Han, I never want to send him anywhere but I can’t train him and it’s dangerous to do this the wrong way you know that…”

“Okay, so I know it’s hard, but we can try more… what can I get you that will help? Are any of Luke’s apprentices old enough to come give you a hand? We can arrange to get you more time off we can…”

“Han,” she chided. “You’re not listening.”

He pursed his lips. “Maybe I just don’t like what I’m hearing.”

“You saw what happened to Vader, Han. You remember what he did to you. To us. I don’t want to lose him, but… if I don’t train him right…” she willed him to understand. “I don’t want to lose him to the dark either.”

“He’s our _son,”_ Han said.

She cupped his cheek. Fought nausea. “And I’m Vader’s daughter,” she said.

Han’s jaw clenched. “Luke’s his too,” he said. “Why do you trust Luke more than you trust yourself?”

She dropped her hands and shook her head. “Luke brought him back to the light,” she said. “I…” She remembered the Death Star, and the interrogation droid. Remembered Bespin and the pain they’d put Han through, the carbonite. Remembered months of not knowing where Han was -- whether he was alive or dead, whether he was suffering. Remembered Luke walking away from her on Endor -- her only family, her _last_ family, going straight back to the man who had taken her other family and killed her world. Her lip curled. “I would have let him rot.”

Han breathed deeply. He knew. He’d always known. “You’re sure about this?” he said.

“As sure as I can be.”

“Can we… ask Luke to come here, train him… whenever he visits…” his shoulders slumped and he let out a breath. “No. No you’re right he can’t do that he has…”

“Ben will be with other people like him,” Leia said. “And we can visit him, and when he’s trained he can come home.”

“When he’s trained.”

Leia nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “I’ll let Luke know. You and Chewie can take him I’ll… I… need to…”

“Hey,” Han touched her shoulder, brought her back to him. “It’ll be okay,” he said.

Something roiled in her gut at his words, a cold chill on the back of her neck. She told herself it was just the pressure of a decision she’d been putting off too long, that it was the anticipation of separation. She told herself it wasn’t a warning.

It couldn’t be. Ben was their son.


	3. Hospitality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt: Humour Me, with Rey and Luke.

Luke had spent enough time on missions during his time in the rebellion to know not to leave unprepared. When he’d gone, he’d taken supplies enough to last him years. He’d had a plan -- a bad plan, probably, but a plan nonetheless, to leave a legacy for whichever Jedi came after him. Instructions. Warnings. Something to make sure they did not make his mistakes.

The island was fertile, and there was plenty of rainfall, and there had been something comforting about establishing crops, tending to them, watching them grow.

 _They_ would not turn from the light.

In any case, Luke had enough supplies and had cooked for himself often enough to serve Rey a meal, the least he could do for her and most certainly not the least he would have to. He remembered, years ago on Degobah, Yoda doing the same for him. That stew had been… interesting. He hoped his own was more to Rey’s tastes. At least they were both human.

She took the bowl from him, fish and vegetables with some spices Luke had been hoarding for a special occasion, and looked up at him quizzically. “This is… this is all for me?”

Luke nodded. It wasn’t a large portion, truth be told, he had been eating less since coming to the island. “I’m sorry, is it not enough?”

The short, desperate giggle that came out of Rey’s mouth made Luke look at her more closely. She was thin, he realised then. Too thin.

“It’s all yours,” he said then. “And there’s more if you want it.” He was suddenly not hungry, the sick, nervous feeling in his gut solidifying in a surge of pity so strong he knew it pushed out into the force. She frowned, looking at him. Of course, she could feel it. He sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you don’t want pity.”

“I don’t need it,” she muttered.

“But you do need to eat,” he gently chided. The frown faded and she looked down at the bowl again. Her tongue darted out and she licked her lips, then she shut her eyes and took a long smell. She was so still that he wondered if there was something wrong -- he’d spent so long only cooking for himself, it was likely the stew was nothing special. But then she opened her eyes and took up her spoon and ate.

And ate.

He’d never seen anyone eat quite like it. Each mouthful was taken with anticipation of joy, each time she swallowed she made a small noise of satisfaction that tugged at his heart. And when the bowl was empty she buried her nose in it and licked it clean.

His own meal was forgotten in his hands as he watched her. When she’d finished licking the last morsel from the bowl she looked up over its edge at him, eyes crinkling. He knew already that meant she was smiling, the strength of her joy showing in her eyes and setting the force around her alight with her energy.

It was beautiful. “That was _amazing,”_ she said.

He couldn’t stop his own grin. “Thanks,” he said. She set the bowl down and laced her fingers together over her knees, rocking back and forth a little before she let out an enormous belch.

She looked so surprised that he started to laugh, something loosening deep inside him as he did so. After a few seconds she joined him, his dry chuckle and her snorts echoing through the small space, reaching every corner and pushing back the dark.


	4. Haunt Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt.

The damp sea air worked its way into his joints and he would wake, cold and aching, in the night, thinking of snow, and darkness, and he would wrap his robe around himself and toss and turn, and try to reach for calm in the force. The danger, of course, was if he reached too far he could feel him, searching, always searching, desperate to finish what he had started, not knowing that for Luke it had ended there, when he had failed his friends.

Han’s death should not have come as a shock.

The ripples in the force, from Ben and Leia’s grief, told him all he needed to know, and he allowed himself the luxury of tears, facing the stars that Han had loved so much, the night cold and bright and endless.

He took the stairs the following morning, down to the water’s edge, to check his traps for fish. A good haul, today, enough to set some aside and smoke it, for those days when the trip down was too much for him. He gutted them by the water’s edge, letting the ocean wash his hands clean.

_I thought they smelled bad on the outside._

He blinked. Han’s voice had been so clear, he almost expected to see a blue tinged force ghost, smiling at him beside the water’s edge.

Of course, that could never happen. He sighed, slinging his catch over his shoulder and beginning the long climb back up to his home.

He filleted the fish, setting it up in his smoker, then made his way to the temple for his exercises. He touched the walls with one hand, drawing some comfort from the rough feel of the stone, the writings etched in too faded for him to see without the help of his holoscanner. The force was strong here, and it was steeped in the light, just as Dagobah had been steeped in the dark. A light that sometimes was not enough to break through the sadness.

He reached for his belt, drawing out his lightsaber and igniting it to practice his forms. The final training drone had lost its charge months ago, but Luke did not feel its absence. Years of the same programs meant that they were mostly useless in any case. And he hardly thought that when the force called him into action again, he would be expected to fight.

Complacent, perhaps, but his trust in the force had never been broken. Only his trust in himself.

_Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side kid._

He swung wide, scoring a line of charcoal across one of the walls. Gasping, pulling back, he was relieved to see it was a wall that was free of carving, but he had not missed a position like that since Endor, that he could recall.

His focus was gone.

Swallowing, he hooked the saber to his belt, breathing hard. Usually he would follow his training with meditation, so he made his way to the hilltop, resting his hand on the gravestone for a second, trying to draw strength from those he had lost.

 _Thanks for coming back for me. Now I owe_ you _one._

The whine of the ship fitted so perfectly that he thought at first he was simply lost in memory. The familiar shape, coasting through the air and stirring up the water as it soared in to land, made his heart constrict in his chest. The force rippled and changed around it. Inevitability. Responsibility.

Of course they were here. R2 must have woken. Han’s death must have been part of something much bigger.

He’d known. Of course he’d known.

What had all of this been, but a way to prepare for her?

_Here, kid._

_This’ll make us even._


	5. Chapter 5

She knew who she was, as soon as she saw her. She also knew words were unnecessary. There was a familiarity about her presence, something that Rey was coming to realise was the force, surrounding her. She drew strength from it, even in her grief. **  
**

They put Finn on a speeder, gently and she watched as he was taken away, her heart clenched in worry, before turning back to the woman -- General Organa -- Luke Skywalker’s sister.

What did you do, when someone was so palpably grieving?

Of course. The answer was obvious. Perhaps if she hadn’t met Finn she wouldn’t have known how absolutely necessary it was to go up to her, put her arms around her, hold her close as they both let the tears fall.

She could feel the force around them both as they held each other. When she finally pulled back, surprised at how short the General was (in her head, in the stories, she was so very much taller) she looked into dark, kind eyes that _knew._

“I’m so sorry,” Rey whispered.

Organa shook her head. “It’s not your fault dear,” she replied, patting her on the shoulder. “And thank you. You’ve done so much for us.”

“I… all I’ve done is be trouble,” she said.

“Nonsense,” Organa said. “Without you Finn and BB8 would never have made it back to us and the First Order would have destroyed this planet and countless others.”

At Finn’s name, Rey couldn’t help looking in the direction the speeder had gone, heart clenching again. The General followed her gaze, smiling a little. “He’ll be fine,” she said. “We have a very competent medical staff here. I promise.”

Rey nodded, letting out a breath. The worry didn’t leave, but it did ease a little, and Organa’s hand squeezed her shoulder gently. “Look at you, you poor thing, you’re covered in filth and I bet you haven’t eaten properly in days. Come inside.”

There was a shower. Rey hadn’t used a shower for… she couldn’t count how long. Days on Jakku were reduced to marks on a metal wall, each mark was the same, and even when things went wrong _(Devi and Strunk flying off and away in her ship -- another abandonment, her own trusting stupidity)_ she didn’t record the days they happened, didn’t know which of the hundreds of marks on her wall represented the days when she was the most hungry, the most lonely, the most desperate.

Those days left their impressions on her heart. Of course they did. Time though, time had no meaning save _how long have you been waiting._

She tipped her face up into the water, opening her mouth and drinking not because she was thirsty, but just because she knew she could. When she came out, finally, and found a soft towel waiting for her, her belly sloshed uncomfortably and she needed to pee.

It was worth it.

There were clothes laid out for her -- soft and clean and smelling of something she couldn’t place.. _flowers? grass? the ocean?_ and she resisted the urge to bury her face in them before she put them on. When she was dressed, she lifted her sleeve to her nose and breathed in, closing her eyes and smiling. She didn’t smell of her any more. She couldn’t remember ever being without that subtle undertone of her own sweat and she liked it.

There was a droid outside the door of her room who directed her towards the operations room, where she found General Organa deep in conversation with a young, dark haired girl in a pilot’s uniform. Organa looked up as Rey approached, however, and gave the girl a nod. She snapped a sharp salute back and nodded to Rey, curiosity in her dark eyes, before leaving. The General cast a critical eye over her, seeming to like what she saw. “That’s much better,” she said. “But I’m sure you’re still hungry. Let’s have something to eat,” she hesitated, swallowed, “and you can tell me… you can tell me what happened.”

Rey’s stomach turned over at the mention of food, but her appetite disappeared almost as soon as it had come when she realised that she was going to have to tell the General what had happened on the bridge. Organa must have sensed her distress, because her hand was on her arm again and the touch of the force she had felt when they had first embraced was even stronger.

 _It’s all right,_ that touch seemed to say. _It’s not your fault. I just want to know. Because I miss him and because you loved him and so did I._

There was food laid out on a table in a side room. Functional rather than comfortable, Rey could see that the resistance was not exactly overflowing with wealth and luxury. The General seemed perfectly at ease, however, pulling up a chair and indicating that Rey should sit next to her, serving her from dishes once she realised that Rey had no real idea what she was allowed to eat or even how to eat it.

She was still too nervous to really appreciate the food, although she had rarely tasted anything with as much flavour. General Organa did not eat at all, merely folded her hands under her chin and listened as Rey told her everything she could about what had happened at the base.

She was just getting to the point at the bridge when a golden protocol droid with a red arm rushed in.

“Princess Leia, Princess Leia! You must come quickly!”

They stood, looking at the map. Rey’s heart was in her mouth, and her stomach, uneasy from so much water and food, made sounds she was sure everyone else could hear.

It didn’t matter. Everyone was enraptured by the holo in front of them -- the chance to find Luke Skywalker.

She felt a pull like nothing she had ever felt before, and General Organa looked over to her, caught her eyes, and nodded.

“With respect, General, the girl is an unknown quantity, I would be much happier if we sent…” Ackbar was a little intimidating to Rey, for obvious reasons, Mon Calamari were not often seen on Jakku.

Also she had read enough about the battles of the rebellion to know who he was.

Leia shook her head. “The force is calling to her,” she said. “Besides, Chewie wants to go. After all these years, don’t we owe it to Luke to send someone familiar? He’s… been alone long enough.”

“If we even know he’s alone.”

“He is,” Rey said, not knowing why she was so certain, but Leia fixed her with a sad eye and she knew that she felt it too.

Admiral Ackbar snorted. “You sound exactly like him,” he said.

“He is my brother,” General Organa said, smiling. “Chewie will get the ship prepped. Rey, if you want, you can check on Finn.”

Rey’s heart thumped again, and she looked down, ashamed that she could have forgotten her friend in the chaos around her.

But she hadn’t forgotten him, and she took the directions of the droid who led her to the medbay willingly enough.

Finn lay on a cot, eyes closed. The steady beats of the machine and the slow rise and fall of his breath told her that he lived, but she knew it too, on a deep level, in her heart, in the _force_ that he was there. That he was waiting.

Waiting for her to come back for him.

“We’ll see each other again, my friend,” she whispered. “I know it.”

She would keep her promise. After all, he had come back for her.


End file.
